


Make You Pay

by Write_No_Evil



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin Eternal (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Child slavery, Gen, Jason Todd Angst, Mad Jason Todd, Resurrected Jason Todd, Swearing, batfamily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-07-11 19:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7066660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Write_No_Evil/pseuds/Write_No_Evil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason fails to save a group of girls after they had been kidnapped. Angry at their deaths and answering a call to arms, he can't control his rage, beating the Scarecrow and Nightwing in his rage. He takes his anger out on punching bags until Cass tries to talk to him, tries to tell him that Bruce cares. The Pit's madness driving him, he lashes out at her. After a brief fight, Jason realising with horror the only thing he can do is hurt the people he loves, he tells her to leave. Shortly after, Bruce goes to him only to find the building he was in burning. Jason isn't in it but Bruce is still worried. Wanting to make amends and for his lost son to come back, he decides to rebuild the building, the family helping him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a good day for Jason. He had gotten a lead on the sex trafficking ring he had been following for the last few weeks; none of the Batfamily had turned up on his patrols or at his safe houses demanding him to change his ways and best of all, a new chillidog stand had started up just outside one of his more favourable safe houses, meaning he could have his favourite snack after every patrol.

Jason checked the guns in his holsters. Though they were loaded with live ammunition, he hadn't killed anyone for several months, shooting at the knees and lower legs of his opponents. He was on the rooftop of a building opposite to the building the gang was in, about to burst in and stop them. Jason checked his guns and jumped up and down on the spot, shaking his arms and legs to release the tension in them. He rolled his shoulders then got out his grappling gun and studied the building in front of him, trying to decide where was the best place to crash in through. The door would mean he wouldn't fall and accidentally injure himself but it was at a harder angle to fire at. The windows of the second floor, whilst easier to aim for, could be hiding a bigger drop to the ground than he assumed, which could potentially injure him and make it harder for him to defeat the gang and a lot more humiliating if he broke his leg trying to look cool and intimidating.

"Ah, to Hell with it, crashing through windows are more dramatic," Jason muttered to himself, firing the line and swinging off the roof. He kept his legs straight and crashed through the window, releasing the line and backflipping through the air to land crouched down. He straightened and grinned, even though his helmet hid it. "Hello boys." It was a chain reaction, the men reaching for their guns in their jackets and hips. Jason was faster, taking out his guns and firing at the men in front of him, getting them in the shoulders and upper arms and forcing them to drop their guns. He threw himself to the side, rolling to the cover of a flipped table as the men further away got their guns out and began to fire at him. He kept his back to the table and dropped a gun to throw a smoke grenade behind him.

"You know, you can just place your weapons on the ground and surrender peacefully. That way you won't have to tell the embarrassing tale of how one guy beat you all up," he rolled out, shooting at the men's feet and causing a few more to fall. "Though, I'd much prefer beating you all up." When he ran out of ammo in one gun, he threw it at the nearest man, hearing a crack as the gun broke his nose. Jason leapt at the man, wrapping his thighs around his neck and putting all 225 pounds of his weight on the scrawny man. The man fell down, Jason not letting go of him and falling down with him. Jason perched on the man's neck, resting some of his weight on the tips of his feet so he wouldn't accidentally strangle the man underneath him shot at the few standing guys. When there was a short lull in the shooting he looked at the man in between his thighs.

"I've got killer thighs, I know," he rolled off him when a man stood back up, shooting at him with an AK-47. As he rolled, he shot the man, hitting the inside of his forearm and making him drop the gun. A second bullet hit his kneecap, earning a louder scream and him falling to the floor. "None of the Batfamily believe me when I say I've killed people with my thighs, but it's true. You believe me, don't you?" If any of the other members of the Batfamily were here, they would be scolding him for goading the criminals but they weren't here, so he could continue insulting them in peace. He discarded his empty gun, one of the things he hated about guns- they could be unreliable, either jamming or running out of bullets at the most critical of moments- and unsheathed his blade. It was the one Talia had given him, it resembled a lose 's' but with an extra curve that extended into a point. It was one of his favourites and he often used it. He flipped it into a reverse grip, hand curled into a fist with his fingers around the hilt, the blade facing away from his fist. It was one of his more preferred ways of handling and fighting with a blade.

"Last chance to give up," he warned them. When no one moved to surrender, he jumped at them, weaving in between them and slashing at their unprotected bodies but keeping it non-lethal. He took the last few goons down with his bare fists, repeatedly punching them in the faces until they were all knocked unconscious. Jason stayed still, watching the men laying around him, hand tight on his dagger, ready to throw it at any of them who were pretending to be knocked out. When no one got up, he relaxed his grip, rotating the dagger around his second finger, his thumb guiding it around his index finger so it fell back into his palm in a sabre grip. He reached back and slid it into the sheath he had sown onto the gun holster around his right thigh.

He sauntered forward, one hand in his hoodie pocket and wrapped around the gun he had placed in there and the other hovering around the gun on his left thigh. He was relaxed, knowing that the gang had seventeen members and he had taken seventeen down but kept on his guard in case they had hired more. Which was likely. He made his way to the other door, stepping over the big man that was slumped over in front of the door, bleeding from his arm. The lock looked like one he could easily pick but he spotted the ring of keys on the guard's belt and took them instead, not having to waste time picking the lock on the door. He inserted the key and twisted, pushing open the door slowly. It didn't creak. He moved in, helmet automatically switching to a different setting so he could see the in the dark. He reminded himself to thank Roy for all the new updates to his helmet. In front of him, hands cuffed and a chain wrapping through the handcuffs and connecting them all together, were at least twenty girls. They looked miserable and scared. Judging by the stench and how dirty some of them looked they had to have been there for more than a week. Their tears had washed away parts of the grime on their faces, leaving lines down their faces. Jason felt the anger soar through him as he saw the disgusting conditions they were in.

"I'm not gonna hurt yer," he told them, letting his Crime Alley accent slip in. Most if not all of the abducted girls were from the streets and so if they heard a familiar accent, they may be more inclined to trust him, or so Jason hoped. He put his hands up in a surrendering pose and walked slowly to them. A few of them whimpered and shuffled back, cowering closer to the wall. Jason stopped and crouched down to make himself smaller, a hard feat considering his height and broad shoulders. "I'm here to help," he pointed to the red bat symbol in the middle of his hoodie. "I'm with Batman and he's good." He stayed crouched until the whimpering had gone down. Jason raised the keys and jingled them. "I've got the keys to get yer outta here." He resumed moving to them, going to the closest one and unlocking her cuffs. She rubbed her wrists and sniffled. Jason worked through the line freeing all twenty of them. A door slamming had his head turning to the door. It seemed backup had arrived. He turned to the girls.

"Do yer think yer can get yerself out to the alley behind here? I'll be right there after I take down them guys." He asked. The tallest girl nodded and stepped forward, taking the keys. She turned and moved to the door. Jason stood up and ran out to the main room, freeing his guns and shooting at the men, the new goons still too surprised at the others on the ground to retaliate at his shooting. Jason was in a good mood, having gotten the girls so he kept the shots non-lethal. There were only five men and so it didn't take long for Jason to beat them. He whipped around to face the door when he heard gunshots and screams.

Swearing, Jason sprinted through the room the girls had been locked in and to the exit, running into the alley as the last girl fell down with a bullet in her head. His gun was in his hand and he had pulled the trigger, the bullet hitting the man in the head before he even knew he was moving. He looked at the girls laying around him suddenly feeling sick. The ever present anger suddenly shot up and his breathing increased as he stared at the man who had been responsible for the girls' deaths wishing he hadn't killed him so quickly and easily, the man deserved to die a slow painful death. Jason remembered the men still living in the building and turned back to the door, striding into the open space and systematically put a bullet through every man's forehead. It quelled the anger but only by a little. Jason looked around, lost. He strode back to the other room. A sob caught his attention, his body jerking to the right and pointing a gun at the little girl leaning on the wall, a large red stain on her top. Jason dropped the gun and moved to her, scooping her into his arms and hurrying outside.

"It's gunna be okay. It's gunna be okay," he repeated to her, placing his large hands over the wound and putting pressure on it. The girl let him, crying at the pain and knowing she was probably going to die. Jason called 911.

"Hello, what's your-"

"I need an ambulance!" Jason shouted. "There's been a mass shooting. Only one survivor. She's been hit in the stomach... I'm ... I'm not sure how much longer...." His voice broke. The man asked where he was and Jason told him, begging them to hurry. He turned back to the girl, shushing her. "It's gunna be okay. Yer gunna be okay." She gripped his jacket and swallowed, nodding. Jason noticed the trail of blood leaking down her lips and looked up at the alley entrance, praying that the ambulance would arrive in time. He freed a hand, fumbling with the back of his helmet to find the release panel. He struggled to get it off but managed one handed, letting the girl see his face. He hadn't worn a domino mask under his helmet so she could see straight into his green eyes.

"It's gunna be okay," he whispered, moving his hands away from her wound to wrap one under her back and lift her up. He held her against him, left hand coming to cup the back of her head, the girl too weak to hold it up on her own. He ran his hands through her hair as he whispered repeatedly into her hair that she was "going to be okay", that she was "safe" and was "going to make it" and that he was "here", all the things he had wished had been spoken to him when he had died. He felt rather than saw when she died, felt her last breath on his bare neck, felt how her chest stopped moving. He pulled her back, her eyes gazing up unseeing. He shuddered, the tears falling as his shaky right hand moved to close her eyes. He heard the ambulance sirens then, the vehicle screeching to a stop at the mouth of the alley. Two people moved out, one of them stopping by the man at the start of the ally whilst the woman saw Jason and raced to him.

"Sir, what happened?" She yelled as she threw herself onto the ground. She gasped when she saw the girl, hands reaching out to take her out of Jason's grasp and begin to treat her but Jason wouldn't let her. He rocked the girl back and forth, crying into her hair.

"She died. They all died. That sick man shot them all. I couldn't save any of them. They died 'cos of me. God, I'm so pathetically useless," he muttered, rocking and clutching the girl to him. His eyes were gazing unfocused onto the pavement. The man called out and the woman turned her head to reply. She looked back to Jason and placed her hand on his shoulder, whispering to him urgently.

"You've got to leave, sir. The police are going to arrive in a few more minutes and they'll arrest you. You're a vigilante aren't you? They'll take you in even if they know you didn't kill the girl." The last part had him clutching the girl harder. "Sir please, you must leave." She shook his shoulders, the action finally snapping Jason out of the trance. He shook his head, getting back to reality. He handed the girl over to the women, the back of his hand running down the young girl's cheek in a loving manner. He looked up to the woman and opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. His hand grabbed his helmet and shoved it on, pushing himself to his feet and turned and ran down the alley. Once he was at the end of it, he shot a grappling hook and reeled himself to the rooftop. He continued to run until he was far away from the scene.

He stopped when he couldn't go on, leaning on the metal rail that ran along a rooftop edge and panted. Jason moved when his breath was back, pushing off of the rail. He froze when he saw the blood on his gloves. Jason staggered back as he saw the red on his hands. His brown hoodie was wet, the blood soaking through the material and staining it. He punched the release button on his helmet and threw it as far away as possible, taking in big gulps of air. He kept on moving backwards until his back met the small box which had the stairs to go down the building in. His legs collapsed, back sliding down the bricks as he felt all his strength leave him. He placed his closed eyes on his knees, his kneecaps digging into his eyes and causing random colours and shapes to burst across his vision. With his eyes closed, the picture the girls lying in their own blood rose to his mind. He kept on breathing heavily, tears streaming down his face at the loss of twenty innocent lives.

Jason wasn't sure how long he stayed in that position. Eventually, a call to arms pulled him out of his grief.

"Batman to everyone. Scarecrow is in the sewer networks underground. He's planning on poisoning the water. All hands on deck." Batman's voice came through the comms. He heard Dick and Tim reply. He looked up, blinking at the blackness as he opened his eyes. The blindness faded and his vision started to focus. He wondered if he should go, his mental state was already bad, he could feel the Pit's madness and rage wrapping around him and he didn't want to take his anger out on them.

"Red Hood, you coming?" Tim asked. Jason cleared his throat and tapped the comm in his ear and replied.

"Yeah sure. Be there in a few." He stood up and walked to where his helmet had rolled to a stop, picking it up and putting it on in one motion, fingers digging into the metal as the anger surged through him. He sniffed and grabbed his grappling gun, looking at the streets below and using the zoom in his helmet to find a manhole cover. Once he located one, he shot his hook, hand shaking with the rage that was coursing through him, and lowered himself down to the ground. He walked to the lid, using one hand to easily move it out of the way and dropped down into the sewers. His helmet dinged as it received a message from Oracle. A map pulled up on his helmet visor and showed him where to go. He thanked Barbara and ran in that direction, the Pit's anger growing with every footstep.

He ran into a chamber that had several sewer lines connecting to it. In the middle of the open area were Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin fighting Scarecrow's men as the man stood in the middle, the others not yet able to reach him. Scarecrow turned as Jason ran in, his footsteps echoing along the walls.

"Hmmmm.... seems we have a late ari-" Crane stopped himself as the goons to either side of him dropped down dead, a bullet in their forehead or throat. Jason charged through the men, shooting anyone who got in his way. When his guns ran out of bullets he chucked them away, activating the small bombs on both of them and blowing up a few more people. He grabbed another two guns and started shooting the men, making his way to Scarecrow. There was static ringing in his ears, a thing he had come to associate with the Pit's madness, the noise increasing in volume and blocking out Batman's and the other's yells to stop as he fought in a violent and lethal manner. He caught up to Crane and dropped his guns. Scarecrow was a gangly man, not very strong and he could easily beat him up; they both knew it. However, the desire to feel Scarecrow's bones breaking, the desire to injure him with his bare hands was what made him fight the man in front of him without weapons.

Crane really wasn't made for hand to hand combat, relying too much on his fear gas to stop people coming close to him. Jason's fists repeatedly hit Scarecrow in the face, his bones breaking under the force and brutality of the attack he was under. Jason varied his attacks, striking with his fists and feet, kicking the man and kneeing him. He felt satisfaction as Scarecrow's rib broke after a particularly hard knee kick to it as Crane was bent over. The doctor staggered back and Jason used the space to kick his knee, taking it out and forcing Crane to his other knee. Jason walked up to him, right hand grabbing and squeezing Crane's neck. He was at least two inches taller than Crane and had enough strength to easily lift the man up in the air, the man grabbing at the hand restricting his air. He kicked his legs out feebly but Jason didn't feel the hits to his chest. If he had been closer to a wall, he would have slammed Crane into it a few times. Instead, he just squeezed harder.

"Like how it feels? How it feels to be weak? Just like those girls. You ain't gonna hurt anyone after I'm done with you." He tightened his grip. "Make you pay for their deaths."

"Every...one's... scared of... something," Crane wheezed out, his hand reaching out and sticking a needle into the small part of Jason's neck that was uncovered, pumping his Fear Toxin into the man. Jason dropped him, Crane falling into a heap as Jason moved back. Scarecrow massaged his neck and sucked in a large breath of air. He laughed at the retreating Red Hood. "Don't bother fighting it. It's even more potent than the last batch. By the time you find a cure for it, your heart will probably have given out by the stress and panic. This has to be my most potent Fear Toxin ever."

"I don't.... care," Jason ground out, straightening. He stormed over to Crane, kicking the man in the face and sending him flying backwards. Scarecrow rolled over, managing to get his hands and feet underneath him and shakily pushed himself up. Jason punched the man as he did so. Crane went flying back, landing on his back on the hard pavement.

"But how? You shouldn't be able to move!" He yelled out, fear creeping into his system as he watched the Red Hood continue to move unaffected by the poison in him. Jason stamped on Crane's chest, feeling another bone break. He knelt over Crane and began to batter him in the face.

"How can I be scared, when the only emotion I feel is anger?" He snarled. "Do you know what happens when you're thrown into a Lazarus Pit? Do you know what happens to you?" He ripped his helmet off to show Crane his glowing eyes. "This!"

"Please! Stop!" Crane begged as Jason continued to pummel him. Dick, the closest to them, ran at the two, tackling Jason off the man. They rolled to a stop with Jason on top, his hands going to Dick's neck. Jason squeezed Dick's throat, cutting the man's supply of air off. Dick wheezed, right hand forming a fist and began to punch Jason in the face, hitting his left eye and cheekbone. Jason wasn't even fazed at the blows, taking them without a sound as he continued to strangle Dick.

"Jay-son... it's........ me," Dick wheezed out, vision beginning to fade.

"Gunna make yer pay fer killin' them." He tightened his hold. "Gunna avenge them."

Damian yelled out as his brother continued to struggle. He ran at Jason, jumping and pulling his hand back ready to punch him. Jason saw him out of the corner of his eye and moved his body, right hand releasing Dick to grab Robin's tunic and hurl him in front of him. Robin caught himself with his arms, absorbing most of the force but his head still hit the ground. He rolled on the ground, groaning as he came to a stop. Bruce, seeing his son fly through the air from another son who was strangling his first son, leapt into action. He hurled himself at Jason, arms reaching out to grab him. Jason's left hand let go of Dick's throat, Dick taking a gasp of air, and flung his left hand in an arc, hitting Batman on the side of his face. The force and power of the hit surprised Batman, head moving with the fist to stop it from damaging him as much. His body turned with his head and he fell away from them. Jason turned back to the male beneath him and began to squeeze his throat again.

Tim, who had let the other two run at Jason, moved to help his brother at a slower pace than the others, not wanting to alert Jason to presence. As he stalked closer, he picked up Dick's escrima sticks that he had dropped. Once he was close enough, he jumped at Jason, bringing the two sticks down onto his back and pressing the button to send two 10,000 voltage currents through the man. He knew Jason was strong enough to take it and his suit would take most of the damage but it should be enough to knock him out. Tim moved back a little, gripping the batons as he looked at the man warily. Jason had defied expectations so many times, done things that should be impossible and because of that, it stopped Tim from dropping his guard. He watched as Jason fell down, hands away from Dick's throat and he heaved a sigh, relaxing slightly. It was a second later when he realised that though Jason had let go of Dick, he wasn't knocked out.

Jason pushed off of the ground, his hands forcing his weight up from where they were resting on either side of Dick's ears. His arms shook as he moved. The anti-hero stood up and turned to Tim, taking two unsteady steps. Tim raised the batons as Jason began to slowly advance, amazed that Jason was not only still conscious after the shock but able to walk. Tim's eyes moved from Jason as they caught movement behind the man. Jason saw where his attention had gone and turned around, only to have Damian kick him in the face. The attack was enough to knock the already dazed Jason out and he fell, turning in the air so stomach first onto the ground.

"Are you okay Nightwing?" Damian asked, rushing to his brother. Dick had sat up and was busy massaging his bruised neck. Dick nodded, smiling at Robin and tried to convince him he was fine. Damian scowled at Jason's lying form. Before he could kick him, Tim spoke up.

"Did you see his eyes?" He asked. Dick nodded.

"They were so... green. They looked like they were glowing." Dick shuddered.

"And the madness in them." Tim raised a hand to run a hand through his hair, forgetting it was under a cowl.

"I thought Todd... had overcome the Pit's madness," Damian spoke.

"I don't think you ever overcome the Pit's madness, Robin," Batman told him. He was standing. He turned and moved to where Crane was lying, tearing off his mask to assess the damage. "Crane needs to be hospitalised," Batman told them, picking up the man. He turned to look at his sons, eyes flickering from Jason to the others. Tim sighed, knowing what Bruce was thinking.

"I'll stay," he offered. "You lot take the henchmen to the hospital. I'll stay and make sure Jason doesn't wake up and start attacking people."  
  
"Red," Dick began, stepping to his younger brother.

"It's fine 'Wing. Jason likes me the most out of us all, maybe I can talk to him." Dick looked at Jason, unsure if it was a good idea to leave Tim alone with Jason.

"Take my escrima sticks then."

Batman, Nightwing and Robin turned and began to carry the injured out. Tim watched them as they left, taking all who were still alive with them. He turned back to Jason and looked at the man. Tim walked up to him and heaved him onto his back, making it virtually impossible for Jason to get up without alerting Tim to his movements. Tim's hands ran along his body, finding and taking as many weapons away from Jason. He felt like a pervert as he felt a sleeping Jason up but pushed the thought away. Once he had taken all weapons he could feel and see, though he knew Jason probably had more, he walked away from the male, taking his weapons with him.

In the centre of the area was a risen platform, railing running around it. Tim ducked under metal and made his way to side furthest away from Jason. He turned and leant his back on it so he could see Jason and dropped the pile of weapons at his feet. He tucked Dick's batons into his utility belt and pressed a button to open up a holographic computer. He scanned through his notifications, not spotting anything. Cassie had posted a picture of her and Artemis sparring in Themyscira. Tim smiled as he saw how happy she looked. He checked on the rest of the Teen Titans, seeing that Beast Boy was at a zoo, the rest of the girls were at the Tower and Superboy was at the Fortress of Solitude.

He began typing up a mission report, taking advantage of the free time, knowing he wouldn't have to spend more time writing it later. With it fresh in his memory, he could write it quicker, in more detail and wouldn't have to stop to look through the footage the cameras in his lenses had recorded so he could remember a certain bit. He glanced up at Jason but he was still sleeping. With the voltage he had been subjected to plus Damian's kick and the Fear Toxin in him, Tim estimated, at minimum, it would be another forty-five minutes before he was awake. He stopped as he thought about the Fear Toxin, remembering how Jason hadn't seemed at all affected by it even though it was Crane's most potent batch yet. He recalled Jason's answer 'how can I be scared, when the only emotion I feel is anger?'. Tim's eyebrows bunched together as he frowned and tried to understand Jason's answer. He had been sure that Jason was making progress with the Pit's madness. Even though Bruce had said that the Pit's effects never leave, it had been almost five years since Jason had been thrown into the Pit. Surely that much time must have dampened its effects? So consumed in his thoughts, he didn't notice Jason until he began to speak.

"Tim... " Jason growled out. Tim started, head jerking up at the noise. Jason was standing where he had been laying, hands in fists by his sides and staring at Tim. Panic darted through Tim as his hands fell on the batons. At the back of his mind, he was amazed at how quickly Jason had recovered.

"Jason it's me, Red Robin. It's Tim." Tim wondered if he should say 'Replacement' as well. Jason had begun to use the word less as an insult and more of a fond nickname. Tim wasn't sure if the word would help Jason remember him or if it would fuel the anger Jason seemed to be battling with.

Jason started to walk forwards, taking stumbling steps. Tim gripped the batons and pushed himself closer to the metal railing. He looked down at the batons, feeling as if he was facing a lion with a stick. Jason hadn't gone down the first time Tim had hit him with the batons, he probably wouldn't go down if he tried again. Jason stalked towards him, a gracefulness in his stride, less like Dick's and more like that of a tiger's, his shoulders and arms hinting at the power that lay in them. A tiger was an animal that Tim had connected with Jason. Both were strong, powerful and intimidating beings that walked with an air of indifference and confidence in the knowledge that they could easily take down any who dared attack them. They were also hard to scare and even harder to take down. Other animals Tim likened to Jason were the Grizzly Bear, especially when Jason was fuelled by the Pit's madness and became a dangerous, hulking, overpowering being that would viciously attack anything and a wolf, both of them loyal to their family. Jason was beyond loyal, coming back even after Bruce took him to the place of his death to try and find a way to bring back Damian.

"Tim..." Jason ground out, teeth clenched together, looking as if he was fighting with himself.

"Jason, it's me. I'm not here to fight." He edged further into the metal frame. Carefully, he sheathed one of the batons in his hand back into his belt and placed the free hand on the top the railing and jumped, hand holding his weight as he moved backwards over the railing and set his feet on the platform again, his hand on the rail stopping him from falling off as his half of his feet hung over the edge of the platform. It wasn't a large fall, probably half a shin's length but he didn't want to do anything sudden and prompt Jason to attack him.

Jason moved to the railing, the platform the only space in between the two males. Jason gripped onto the metal, his hands crushing the metal as he hunched over it. Tim gulped when he saw the handprints left in the metal. Jason clutched at the metal, moving his fists so his thumbs were parallel with the ceiling. Tim got out the other baton again at the show of the strength, screaming internally. Why did he think it was a good idea to stay? Jason had a hundred pounds and seven inches on him; Jason was even half an inch taller than Batman, who, incidentally was an inch taller than Bruce Wayne, another way Bruce protected his identity. Jason was the tallest of the Batfamily and Tim was the third smallest. He inched away, knowing that in a hand to hand combat, Jason would, ultimately, walk away the victor. Didn't mean Tim wouldn't hit him, he was good with his bo staff, but Jason was so much stronger than him and took pain so well, judging by the volts he had endured as well as Crane's kicks and Nightwing's punches.

"Tim.... Get... out of.... here," Jason told him, ducking his head. "Not sure.... how much longer.... I can.... control myself..."

"Jason I'm here. Let me help," Tim reasoned. It was the wrong thing to say as Jason sprung up to stand straight, his hands flinging to the side in anger as he snarled. Tim's eyes moved with the arms, seeing the metal rip and bend in the direction of Jason's swing.

"JUST GO!!" Jason yelled, the loud noise echoing around the cavern. Tim nodded and began to retreat, walking backwards and keeping Jason in his sight at all times. Jason bent the metal again and turned away from Tim. Tim continued to walk away only turning to sprint away when he was sure that he had enough of a headstart that Jason couldn't catch up with him. As he raced along the sewer, he grabbed his grappling gun and kept it in his hand, ready to fire it and swing over the water to the platform on the other side in case Jason did chase him. He turned the corner and saw the ladder he had come through, the lid still off. He didn't stop as he came to it, jumping up and clearing the first six rungs and began to climb up it, using his last three fingers on his left hand as the other two were gripped around his gun. Once he was above the sewers, he turned to the lid and began to push it over the hole again, huffing at its weight. When it was covering the hole, he sat on it, hoping his added weight would be enough to stop Jason from pushing it off if he had chased Tim, which was stupid as Tim knew he had more than enough strength to do that. There were also more than one manhole lids, Tim knew there was one in the street to his right and he could see another one straight ahead of him not seventy metres from him. It brought him a little comfort though. He opened the holographic map and saw that Jason was still in the sewer chamber, pacing around.

* * *

About ten minutes later two figures dropped from the rooftops. Tim looked up to see Nightwing and Robin in front of him, Dick looking at him with worry.

"Red, what are you doing here? Are you hurt?" Dick asked as he bent down and ran his hands over Tim's face and top half of his body, checking for injuries. Tim laughed and hit his hands away.

"I'm fine," Dick didn't look convinced. "Seriously, Wing, I'm fine. Only one who didn't get hit by Hood, remember?" Dick pulled back once he was sure Tim wasn't injured. Tim nodded to his throat. "Your throat okay?"

"A bit sore," Tim could hear the slight rasp in his voice. "Been drinking a lot of water and I had an ice compress on it for ten minutes. What are you doing up here? I thought you said you would stay with Hood?"

"He told me to get out," Tim told him truthfully. "He seemed to be fighting himself. You should have seen him, he was gripping the metal and twisting. He said he didn't want to hurt me." Dick nodded.

"He still down there?" Tim looked at the map but couldn't see him. He shook his head. "Okay. Well, we were told to come get you anyway. The Batplane's taking us back." Tim looked up to see the black shape of the plane above him. He nodded and stood up. Three harnesses fell down and the three clipped themselves in. Dick checked they were both safely in then ordered the lines to be reeled in, all of them being lifted up into the plane. A panel slid over the hole they were winched in through and they clicked the harnesses undone, walking to the seats. Dick sat at the controls and typed a command in, setting auto-pilot to take them to the Batcave.

* * *

The journey back was silent. When they landed they filed out, Dick heading to the table that Alfred had prepared and grabbed the cup of iced water to drink, other hand placing some ice onto his bruised throat. Bruce was sat in front of the Batcomputer he turned to see them.

"I think I've isolated the cause of Jason's anger," Bruce told them. He turned and pressed a button, playing the video. The camera had been positioned high, most likely on a building, and was looking down on an alley. The door opened and a group of skinny, dirty girls walked through. They stayed huddled like that for less than five minutes before a man appeared on the screen. He took out a gun and began to shoot at the girls. Dick's sharp inhale, Tim's whispered 'no' and Damian lurching forward, as if he could somehow go through the screen and save the girls were their reactions. Thirty seconds later Red Hood ran on screen, shooting the murderer. He turned and walked back in, two minutes later rushing out with a bleeding girl in his arms. Sound appeared at that and they listened to Jason as he called 911 and demanded an ambulance to arrive, the boys noticing but not commenting on the crack in his voice or the way he begged for them to come. His back was to the camera so they couldn't see what he was saying, if he was speaking, but watched as he battled with his helmet before flinging it to the side and brought the girl to his chest, running a hand through her brown hair. Jason began to rock the girl, burying his head in her hair as his broad shoulders shook, a sign he was crying and that she had died. They looked away at the scene. A paramedic appeared and tried to take the girl in Jason's arms away but Jason clung onto her and refused. She spoke to the grieving vigilante, her face to the camera allowing them to read her lips, her telling Jason to leave before the police came. She shook Jason and he finally nodded. He let her take the dead girl, rubbing the back of his right hand down her cheek and grabbed his helmet, turning and running away. Bruce paused the footage at that point.

"No wonder he was so angry," Dick broke the silence.

"It would explain why he kept saying he would 'avenge them' and kept on talking about girls," Tim pieced it together. He stepped closer to Bruce's seated form. "Do you know where he is?"

"In a warehouse on the outskirts of Gotham. I've sent Cass over there."


	2. Chapter 2

Cass knelt on the metal beam, watching the male on the ground punch the bag in front of him. Bruce had directed her to the building on the outskirts of the city. It was similar to a warehouse in size yet she wouldn't classify it as such. It was more like the car parking lots she saw near or under the shopping centres that Steph dragged her to every other weekend but it didn't have several levels to park a car. It only had one level, the ground level. The walls were covered with weapons, on the long left wall hung either guns and other projectile weapons on one half and on the other half hung melee weapons. The collection was so large that it had spilt onto the smaller walls of the rectangular building.

Her eyes moved to the space in front of Jason, counting seven punching bags laying on the ground, the closest about ten metres away from him. She looked back at Jason, his punches increasing even more in speed. She watched him, in awe of the speed and the pure power behind each punch. A few seconds later, after a harder than normal punch, the bag exploded, flying through the air and landing on the ground about twelve metres in front of him. Jason panted, shoulders rising up and down before turning to the bags that were lined up on the ground to his left, bending to pick the nearest one up. He raised his arm and hooked it onto the chain. He brought his fists up and began to take his anger out on the bag in front of him again, alternating between kicks and punches.

"Yer gunna stay there all day?" He asked, eyes still on the bag. Cass looked surprised that he knew she was there. She flipped off the beam doing a few somersaults and landing on the concrete.

"How did... you know?" She asked as she stayed crouched.

"Tripped a few alarms," he told her, huffing. This close, she could see the sweat beading on his forehead and neck as well as the shake of his arms. He had been doing this for a while. Cass nibbled on her top lips as she wondered what she should do. Jason was hard to read, the anger he felt always present and distorting his body language.

"Did Brucie send yer here?" he sneered. "He too scared of little ol' me?"

"Wanted... to make.. sure you .... were okay," she murmured, watching him. She stood up and began to walk towards him.

"Don't," Jason growled, turning to face her and sweeping his arm out. "Don't come near me."

"You... said to Tim... you did not... want to... hurt him... you won't... hurt... me," she told him. Jason snorted.

"Yer think it's easy fer me to control this... this," Jason clenched his fists. "This rage... It ain't. Go tell that to Bruce." He turned to face his collection of weapons, sides facing either Cass or the punching bag. "Not like he cares anyway."

"He does... he very worried.... for you," Cass rushed to convince him.

"Then why ain't he here?" Jason roared. Cass looked to the side, not sure how to answer it. "Exactly."

Cass decided that if words wouldn't persuade him, then actions would. It was stupid of her, especially since it was Jason who didn't like being touched, but Cass moved to hug him. He moved to face her, left fist punching her in the face. She took the punch, knowing it was her fault to initiate physical contact with a person who didn't like it much. She rolled backwards, arms shooting up as Jason followed her retreat and began to attack her. She continued to block his swings, moving backwards as he carried on striking at her, pushing her further back. Both of his arms swung to her, Cass putting up both forearms to block it, allowing Jason to kick her in the chest, though Cass moved so it landed more on her protected ribs, and pushed her back further.

They stayed like that, five metres in between them as they panted and eyed each other warily.

"Bruce ... does care ... for you!" She cried, wanting him to understand it.

"Shut up! Shut up, shut, up, shut up!" Jason yelled back, closing the gap with one lunge and began to attack her again. Cass stayed on defence, letting Jason take her anger out and used the backs of her forearms to deflect his blows. He continued to push her back, Cass too busy blocking the fast blows raining down on her to care about the ground she was losing. She brought her arms in an 'X', hands opening from the fists she had them in and pushed her arms forwards, moving Jason's as well. Her hands curled under Jason's forearms, his arms straight and under her armpits. She rotated her hands so she could cup Jason's wrists in her palm and shot her arms to both sides, Jason's stretched arms flying to either side as well. Cass took the opportunity to kick his exposed chest, forcing him to stumble back. She ran at him and punched him, going on the offence and reclaiming the lost ground.

Jason stumbled backwards until he was next to a trolley, a steel bar resting on the top. He grabbed it with his left hand and swung it at Cass' head. Her left hand came up, the back of her hand resting on the side of her head and the bar struck her palm instead. The force behind the swing sent her off balance and she stumbled backwards and to the left, falling onto her side.

"Shit," Jason cursed and moved to her lying form. He halted half way there though and stumbled back. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"I am... oh-kay," she told him, pushing herself back onto her feet. Jason snarled, left arm moving from his right shoulder to be outstretched and pointing to his left, the bar leaving his palm and sailing along the space. It cartwheeled through the air before lodging into the wall. Cass watched it before looking back at Jason.

"Just... leave," he ground out. She could see the anger rolling off of him, his body language screaming anger and madness. She froze, biting her top lip as she thought. She didn't want to leave her brother in the state he was in but she also didn't want to stay and aggravate him further. Before he could shout at her again, she pivoted and sprinted out of the building. Jason watched her leave, bringing his hands up to look at them. He clenched his fists and snarled, looking at the palms of a murderer. He turned around and stormed to the punching bag that hung forgotten. He stepped back and drew his hand back then sprung forward and punched it with all his strength. The bag flew off the hook and landed further away from all the other bags. He breathed heavily. Destroying the bags wasn't enough, he needed to destroy something bigger.

* * *

Cass stalked back into the Batcave half an hour later. The others looked at her as she entered and climbed off her motorcycle.

"How did it go?" Bruce asked, turning in the chair to look at her. She looked down sadly, showing she had failed.

"I am.. sorry," she spoke to the floor.

"It's fine. You shouldn't be the one apologising," Bruce told her. He stood up from the chair and pulled his cowl back over his head, striding to the Batmobile.

"Where are you going?" Dick asked.

"To talk to Jason."

"You think that's a good idea?" Tim asked. "I mean, no offence, but you're kinda emotionally constipated. You may say the wrong thing, after all, words really aren't your strong suit."

"There are things I need to tell him," Bruce looked away. "He's my son, goddamnit, and I just want him back." He got into the car and whizzed away before any of them could reply.

He relied on the map on the dashboard to guide him to the building, not looking up as he expertly weaved through the traffic, just like it was on the map. It was because his eyes were trained on the blue lines, that the first thing he did when he looked up at the warehouse Jason was in, was to break and jerk the steering wheel to the side, the car screeching to a sideways halt. He looked out the window to see the building in flames. He thought about calling the firefighters or the Batplane to drop sand on the burning building but decided against it. He watched the flames burn higher. Even though it was unlikely, he had the Batmobile search the building in front to make sure Jason wasn't still in there. When it came back as negative, Bruce took his foot off the break and turned the car back to the Batcave.


	3. Chapter 3

A day later Bruce returned at 5 AM when the sun was beginning to rise. He had bought a few things using his vast money and he stood in front of the burned skeleton of the building. His eyes moved across the destruction and sighed at the fact he had his work cut out for him. Bruce began by clearing everything away including the foundations. Using the wrecking ball he had rented out, he took down the only standing wall. Next, he got the digger and began to scoop the rubble up and into the several skips he had bought. By the end of the day, there was nothing to indicate that there had been a building in the area. He left the area and headed back to the Batcave, ready to patrol as Batman

The next day he came back, again at 5 AM. He had already purchased and brought the bricks and so he began to lay them down, the cement mixer turning behind him. At midday, a large black car rolled onto the grounds. The door opened and out jumped Damian and Dick, Dick coming from the driver's seat and saving Bruce from the mini heart attack he would have had if he knew his ten year old son had been driving. Dick walked to the sliding door and opened it. Cass, Steph, Tim and Harper all jumped out and stretched. Dick leant into the car his right arm stretching into the foot well. He moved to straighten up, pulling the bottom up and out so it formed a ramp. Barbara wheeled herself slowly down the ramp and following her was Kate. Bruce stopped laying bricks as he watched them trudge over to him.

"Can I.... help you?" He asked, unsure why they were all here.

"Nope, but we can help you," Dick chirped, smiling.

"We hoped we could help you with this," Tim told him, nodding at the brick wall he had begun to build.

"All of you?" Bruce questioned. He understood most of them, Jason was like a brother to them. Harper and Kate, he wasn't so sure of though.

"More hands make light work, and all that," Harper shrugged.

"Yeah. Hood's like a little brother. He likes guns, respects girls and he's funny," Kate told him, smiling.

"Okay, then," he told them. They smiled and dispersed, beginning to do different things. Barbara went back to the car and brought out a few laptops and a hologram thrower and placed the disc on the floor, tapping the power button. She began to tell people what they had to do whilst the hologram thrower showed them a picture. They nodded and began to get to work.

It took a while rebuilding the walls, especially since all but one were less than six foot. The first few days were hard, patrol and the decrease in sleep making them slow. Eventually, their bodies got used to it and they were given more breaks and days off from patrol to rest and recuperate. Even Bruce gave up the Batman suit once every four nights, choosing to spend that time at the construction site to continue working. They had placed bright lights around the structure so they could continue working after the sun had gone down. Even Alfred had joined in although they made sure he did the easier things like manning the cement mixer, not wanting him to be hurt in his old age. More often that not, he was the one who would make sure they were hydrated and fed.

Four months later the building was complete. Bruce had to thank Barbara for keeping this project a secret. She had developed a program the deleted any pictures or mentions of what Bruce was doing. One the outside was done, they moved onto the inside, setting to work on putting electric wires and heating into the building. Once that was done, Barbara began installing state of the art computers into the section designated for technology. She and Tim spent a few days putting all the data they had onto the computers. The rest began to fit the furniture bought into the inside. Though it was mostly an open space warehouse, they had created a second floor. A balcony ran along the entire top inside space, allowing people to look over it down onto the ground floor, with doors leading to bedrooms and a library that took up most of the space on the upper level. There were two stairs on either side that led up to the second floor. Dick and Bruce put a wallpaper behind his bed that had a map of the world and a box of pin tics so he could put them in the places he had visited. They placed a few on countries that they knew he went to, mostly during his time as Robin and tried not to think too much over the fact that they didn't know much about where he went after he was resurrected. Behind the computer, Dick and Bruce put up a floor to the second level whiteboard so Jason could write on if he needed to put info somewhere.

Damian took over the painting, buying the colour (white) as well as the paintbrushes and trays. He had created a schedule so that they could paint one wall whilst another was drying and then paint that one whilst the first wall was drying and though he tried very hard to keep to the timetable, it ultimately failed. Once all the walls were painted white, as it made things look bigger so Jason wouldn't feel claustrophobic and like he was back in the small coffin, the young boy went around and painted the walls, painting a setting sun with African animal silhouettes in black on one part of the wall, on the smaller wall he painted part of the skyline of Gotham. On another, he painted a sakura tree that went up to the second floor with the pink petals falling off. He painted a black cage with a bird flying free. On the stairs, he painted a horse galloping up it and on the larger wall he had painted several figures jumping and kicking in the air.

Steph, wanting to also be artistic too, ran to where they had been a storage unit into the wall and graffitied onto the wall with an arrow pointing to certain areas labelling it 'place stuff' she drew an arrow to the space where they hoped Jason would hang up his uniform and wrote 'place ego here'. Tim, wanting to outdo all of them, ran away for an hour and bought glow in the dark paint and began to write quotes from Jason's favourite books. Steph, Damian, Cass, with Harper helping her, and Dick all joined him. Barbara and Bruce also wrote a few quotes they knew Jason would like as well. Harper, who had handled the lights and electricity, showed them her contribution of a projector that could project whatever Jason wanted onto the walls, from pictures to dancing ballerinas. She also showed them how with her phone or the computer, they could change the colour of the lighting and its brightness.

It was Cass' idea to paint the Bat logo on the ground in the centre of the building. They painted it black. Dick had the idea to paint their hands and put their handprints on the black logo. They did it in size order, knowing Jason would like that. Bruce went first with grey, then Kate with an orange, Barbara's with dark green, Dick's was blue, Alfred's was white, Tim's was orange, Steph's was purple, Harper's was a light blue, Cass' was yellow and Damian's was a light green. After the handprints had dried, they shuffled out and stood back, looking at the building they had made. Tim pulled out a camera and a camera stand, dragging it out and setting up the camera to take a few pictures with them standing in front of the door. They stood in a line, Bruce in the middle with Cass in front of him, one arm around Tim and his other hand on Damian's shoulder. Steph stood next to Tim, linking her arms through his and Harper's. On Damian's other side was Dick, who had a hand on Damian's head and the other resting on Barbara's shoulder. Kate was standing on the other side of Barbara with Alfred next to her. Even Titus, Alfred the Cat and Batcow were there, Titus lying in front of Cass, Alfred the Cat in Damian's hands and Batcow next to Harper, who had her arm slung over the animal. There was a space in between Damian and Dick so that they could photoshop Jason in. Barbara uploaded the pictures onto the computers in Jason's building.

"Do you think he'll like it?" Bruce asked, staring up at the building. Dick smiled at him.

"I think he will." He turned and started walking to the black van that had the rest of them in. "Come on Bruce."

 

A few days later, whilst he was at the Batcomputer researching, his computer dinged with a message. Bruce hovered over it, seeing it was from a person called 'Father.Fucker' he smiled, knowing who it was from and opened it. On it was a picture, one of the pictures they had taken in front of the building. His eyes went to the space they had left for Jason, only to see the picture had been edited and they had been moved around so there wasn't a space. Bruce felt his heart sink at that. He scanned the photo again, suddenly stopping when his eyes came to rest on him. A smile broke out as he saw the miniature Jason standing on his head in a lunge with his hands on his hips and smiling. Bruce saved the picture and made it his phone's background. He clicked on the message and saw that Jason had sent it to the rest of the family.

* * *

Cass slipped into the building quietly. As far as she knew, Jason still hadn't named the building. Dick had been referring to it as the Jay-Pad and unless Jason thought of something to call it soon, the name would probably stick. Her eyes trailed along the walls, noting that the new wall paintings and smiled when she realised that Damian must have come back to continue painting. The smile widened as she also realised that Jason probably let him in. It was nice to know her brothers were getting along. Her eyes moved to the big Bat symbol on the floor, eyes widening as she saw the tenth red handprint, in between Bruce's and Kate's handprints.

"Yer late, lil' sistah," Jason spoke. She looked up to see him grinning at her, two metal poles in his hands. She grinned back at him, jumping over the line of handprints and racing to him, easily catching the pole he threw her way.

.  
.  
.

Jason watched her stare at the line of handprints, knowing she was looking to the additional handprint. He felt a small burn on his cheeks and decided to say something.

"Yer late, lil' sistah." Her head whipped up as his words reached her. He smiled at her and she grinned back, hopping over the handprints and running to him, catching the baton he tossed at her.

_His sister._

_His family._


End file.
